Thursday, June 30, 2011

I guess the defense rested today. Really hard to believe since I don't feel that they presented ANYTHING resembling, even remotely, "reasonable doubt". Sure, George might have had an affair. Who cares? Most men do that--and if they don't do it in reality, they do it in fantasy. But the woman who testified had no credibility, taking money (and two tons worth of it, too) from the National Enquirer.

Oh, right. As if that makes you credible--there's not an ounce of credibility in the National Enquirer. If you had something to say, you take it to the police. NOT to the Enquirer.

I guess the prosecution is going to try and knock down Cindy's statement that she was searching for chloroform on the internet--that when she was supposedly looking for chlorophyll, google pulled up chloroform--who knows? Maybe she spelled it wrong or what not. But her boss would tell you she was at work when the searches were done, and this would be fine, of course, unless the computer had the wrong system date...complicating things further. But when you type clorafill, which would be a pretty common misspelling, in google, it pops up "did you mean chlorophyll"? So that testimony is total bs...naturally.

The whole family is a piece of work. They ALL lie. I don't think any of them knows how to tell the truth. And the defense has tossed out so many smoke screens. Why in the world would George tell a mistress the truth, when he can't even tell the truth on the witness stand? What? He's lied all this time, and suddenly he's going to tell the truth "in a moment of weakness"? I don't think so.

Beyond that, even if they all lied, SOMEBODY has to tell the truth at some point. They have all lied from the very beginning. One minute it's a kidnapping, one minute it's a drowning, next minute it's the meter reader, next minute it's daddyo. Sounds like the defense is grasping at straws ANY straw.

It's sad really. Daddy didn't know a thing about it, as evidenced by his suicide note. Too many questions with no answers, he says. Mom's been frantic trying to get answers out of the one person who SHOULD know--Casey--who was the last one to see her daughter alive.

As I said before, usually when a married person dies and the death is suspicious, it is ALMOST ALWAYS the spouse who is a person of interest in the case from the very get go. There's a reason why that is. And when the death is a child, and homicide is determined, then the parent's are the likely culprit. There's a reason for that, too.

Poor Caylee. No one wanted her until it was too late for anyone to love her.

Earth and water cards. Hmm. Regret standing firmly in the middle, though, indicating that someone feels sorrow. The Page of Pentacles (entitled) Health is reversed, and a picture of a young person knealing in the forest, as if to pay hommage. Health reversed means issues with health, be they mental/emotional/physical/psychological. A reference perhaps to George's continued depression over his loss. Regret over it, naturally. But then the 6 of pentacles reversed (entitled Bounty), indicating that there's a hoped for "income", that won't materialize. I've wondered if all this "note taking" by Cindy wasn't an attempt to grab everything she can to get to writing a book--and I wonder if Cindy doesn't already have a publisher contacting her asking her to get everything down that she can to put into a book.

Well, listen, I won't buy it. My mother might, however--my mother likes Anne Rule books, and if she saw it, she would likely buy it. Sadly, I can't see giving money to somebody who only wants to benefit from the death of a little girl. I think it's horrible and materialistic (a card I drew yesterday when I asked about Cindy).

So there you go. The defense, as I said has rested. Now the Judge tells the Jury to begin deliberating. It's all over but the crying. I just drew the King and Queen of Cups. There will be many tears during this time.

The High Priestess (someone called back to question)
The Star (wishful thinking/prayer/wishing on a star)
The Wheel (a game of Russian roulette--the vote)
And the Queen of Wands, or Queen of Fire, perhaps a sudden illumination that provides the final turning point.

Last card is the Sun. All will be revealed in the light of day.

I'm a little surprised that I didn't see Justice in this draw, but then again, with all the lying going on, I can see why it didn't make an appearance. I think that somebody needs to come forward with the truth. I don't believe anyone has told a lick of truth yet. Too many people trying to cover their own butts and their own secrets.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Well, you'll remember the cards I drew earlier today....King of Pents, Wheel Reversed and the Queen of Wands reversed...

What I thought might be the judge, turned out to be George Anthony, gathering up his courage, going into court and setting some things straight.

Well, I drew the King of Pents AGAIN tonight, with the Ace of Cups entitled Spirituality and the Ace of Wands reversed. I'm a little concerned that the man is not out of the woods as far as suicide is concerned. The trouble is that a suicide now would not change a thing, according to the cards, not a good plan.

I hope the man is on medication and that he's getting therapy. He's a guy on the edge--an ex-cop with what may be a sociopath daughter. No one should have to go through what he's going through, but let's take a look at Casey's MOTHER...

Odd.

I drew the Web, the 7 of pents reversed and the 9 of pents.

You know, it wouldn't be the first time that I'd considered that grandma was trying to take Caylee away from Casey--which of course, might have been a really good idea, all things taken into consideration. I think Cindy has some secrets of her own, and that she stood to GAIN if her plan succeeded. It would not be the first time that's happened. She could then make the changes in parenting with Caylee--the opportunities missed, that created the monster the Casey became.

Not saying that's wrong or anything, but realize--Diane Downs maintained her innocence and likely STILL does, even though she's been convicted of murder of two of her children and attempted murder of the third, who is so traumatized that her mother would do such a thing, that she can't even recall it. And what do the guilty ALWAYS SAY...it just sounds so sing-song as to be ridiculous---

I didn't do anything. I'm innocent! It makes one sigh.

Sherlock Holmes said "How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?" And frankly, dear Watson, I think the prosecution has eliminated the impossible AND the possible and probable, and REVEALED the truth. George Anthony may be more a broken man than you think.

And where is Cindy in all this. In almost every case, George seemed a puppet, with Cindy calling the shots. This guy was a cop, yet it would appear that Cindy wore the pants, and asked the hard questions. The whole thing just doesn't ring true...and that's what makes me think that it's CINDY who's weaving the web and making the excuses and basically running the show. Yet, nobody's looking at her. She is up to her neck in this--has intruded on all of it--and the main "force" behind the childhood upbringing of her daughter, Casey.

When I asked if Cindy Anthony had anything to do with the murder, I drew the same cards, even after shuffling. Same orientation, different order.

Again with the Tarot:
King of Pentacles
The Wheel reversed
The Queen of Wands Reversed

The King may be either the Judge (since the King is seated and has this "oh my god, I don't think I can stand another moment of this" on his face) or could be Casey's dad, Lee Anthony. The Wheel corresponds to the Chariot in the RW deck, and generally in it's right side up orientation indicates something to do with cars. In this instance, I see the wheel of justice being overrun with a lot of gobble-d-gook, and slowing to a creep. The queen is quite obviously Casey's mother, also reversed, which means it's likely that the jury doesn't believe her story at all.

It could also indicate an argument between Lee and Cindy that had no resolution, and now they are at odds with each other, contradicting each other.

I maintain my stand. No way does a cop not report a crime or an accident. I believe both of them believe that their daughter is a sociopath. I believe that both of them believe that she did it, but neither one knows for a certainty, and neither can prove it. They are too close to the liar to be objective, and they both are tossing monkey wrenches into the proceedings because they are being allowed to stay in the courtroom. That should never have been allowed, and Lee Anthony should have known better. And the Judge should have tossed them out on their ears when things began going horribly awry.

The whole thing has been done this way for ongoing drama factor. Personally, I'll be glad when the Jury leaves for deliberation. I don't think they'll be gone long, and I know that they will come back with a guilty verdict.

Monday, June 27, 2011

I know. I know. The Casey Anthony trial is on everyone's mind. The defendant's lawyer is turning the whole thing into a three ring circus, and he's just the puppet master. Casey has him wrapped around her little finger, and she's pulling every string she can think of to lay blame in someone else's yard.

Except her own.

Now, the defense has a private investigator, talking with a psychic (Allison Dubois?) on the phone, who is telling him where to look. Vinnie Politan is saying "Psychic was VERY close." Psychics are not "close". They are either spot on, or they aren't psychics. Clairvoyant means "to see clearly". Being close only cuts it in horseshoes and bombs....and with bombs, you really don't have to be that close.

So I asked the cards about this "psychic".

I drew 7 of cups reversed, the Web reversed (compares to the Wheel of Fortune) and the 2 of Wands.

With the question "Who is the 'psychic'?"

Cards showing power and authority on both sides of the wheel of fortune, which is a card that could basically go either way. Could also mean a person with one foot in the here and now, the other in another world (especially as the Web would indicate), but having equal knowledge of both.

But you know, if a psychic is wrong, they cannot be trusted always, and that's a problem for psychics. That's why I asked about Allison DuBois. If you've never heard of her, then you aren't alive. She was the "creative" behind the show "Medium", which has either been cancelled, or has finished it's season, but I don't find it on my television anymore....but the show made a lot of "creative license" type of changes to make the show seem more accurate, rather than "cloudy" like some psychics are prone to be. Based on the show, I could say that if she was involved in the process, then MAYBE. But I highly doubt that she would have been.

Besides which, most psychics do not want to be involved in things of this sort. You will remember that I pulled cards when Caylee went missing--well, when she was finally REPORTED missing, and I knew she was dead even then.

So let's draw the cards again...."How did Caylee die?"

HOLY SMOKES!

I draw the SUN, the Underworld (AKA Death) and The MOON.

So definitely NOT a drowning, or there would be water cards.

The following card is a fire card--the 10 of swords, but it's reversed in a manner that all the swords are pointing on top of the ground, rather than buried, and then the Page of Pentacles (reversed), which is how the underworld might see a young woman, leaving a body, and kneeling beside. And then, the three of cups, titled REGRET.

They are telling me that Casey Anthony is guilty of the crime. If it were someone else, the cards would have held an older woman, or a queen, in the Page's place. A Page is often a designator for a younger female.

So there you have it.

And before you call me crazy, let's remember, I never said I was a psychic or that I believe in them. But the world is full of very strange things that not everyone can explain.

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Last night I dreamed of tarantulas. Then of being in a place I've never been that had snakes and tarantulas--some were getting loose. Then being in some sort of an event where I couldn't find a bathroom, and I was crying hard because I couldn't find a clean(ish) bathroom to go, and my husband and son, neither one were helping me at all. I had to go so badly, that it hurt. Finally I woke up and went to the bathroom. I mean, sometimes, that's all it's about, right? Just get up off your lazy bum and GO.

Not sure what the snakes and tarantulas had to do with the whole thing. I'm not fond of spiders, but snakes don't bother me a bit. Perhaps just that they sometimes go together as novelty items in snake expos I've been to. I will steer clear of the spiders--although when they are in a plastic cup, I can look at them, and they are quite pretty...if a spider can be pretty. They really give me the creeps.

My story has bogged down a bit. Okay, bogged down a lot. It started out fresh and new and lively, and now, it's gotten to the point where I am not sure which direction to go. I want to flesh out the characters and give them more life--model them after friends and combinations of friends. I'm just not sure which way to go...so...

I spent the day yesterday eating potato chips and dip and knitting a pair of socks. I got another inch done on the legs. I watched a couple of movies on Direct TV and made some asparagus for dinner. So it was a laid back sort of day, while Hubby mowed his mom's lawn.

Today, we're supposed to work on the garage. There is really too much to do, and I'd hoped to work on it earlier in the day, but hubby is sleeping still at 9:35am. I've already had my coffee and started to think about breakfast. I'm thinking about another cup of coffee, though, because it's particularly good this morning. Hubby said he might take us to breakfast at Denny's (our usual place to go), but after buying the sirloin yesterday for the grill, I really wonder if he's going to want to do that.

I was right. He doesn't want to go. That's fine. I can make breakfast today. Maybe I'll get out some zesty sausage and make my breakfast scramble this morning! That's pretty quick and tasty.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Well, I am really sorry that I haven't been around lately. I'm sort of working on a book.

Yes, you heard right. A book. I don't quite know how it happened! I was talking with a friend one day, and out popped this joining of two words, and then my mind went on a "free association" sort of trip, and before I knew it, I had the characters looking for all the world to be flesh and blood.

There's still a lot of "fleshing" out to do, but the basic premise is pretty well set, and before I get too much farther, I have to determine where the plot is going to turn and go in a different direction, but there you have it.

A book.

I've decided that my dog stinks. She stinks so bad, that I can't take her in the car to the doggie bath place, unless she wears a diaper--which of course, any self-respecting dog would NEVER do. So I will probably have to lay down some sort of rug or blanket in the front seat so that she can go and not make the car stink. Of course, being in that close a proximity will possibly gas me to death. We don't want zombies driving about, now do we? But first I have to call the doggie bath place to see if I can use their facilities, how much it costs, and other silly stuff, and they aren't going to open for another 2 hours or so.

I think I have time for breakfast....and maybe coffee as well. Yum. That just sounds good to me.

Yesterday (work day), I woke up at 3am, thinking I was hearing my cell phone alarm going off, but then I realized that my cell phone was still in my purse, and that I needed to go get it and plug it in or there would be no alarm (out of battery). When I kept hearing the alarm, I decided that maybe the phone was ringing, and determined that only an emergency would call me at 3am, so I got up and went past the kitchen to get my purse and phone.

Of course you know, that neither was the case....it was neither ringing nor alarming--so I just brought it back into the bedroom, plugged it in, and went back to bed.

Well, that's when the dog decided she needed to go out for a potty break, and started barking and whining. So I got back out of bed and let her out on her leash. She has to be watched, otherwise, she gets into trouble, so I stood in front of the window and watched her as she did her business, then she saw me in the window, and decided it was time to go back in. She flicked a little dirt out the back kick, and was back at the door, so I let her in, returning her to her little cabin.

Not 10 minutes later, she was barking to go out again. AND she had gas. I figured...okay better out than in--so I got up AGAIN and let her outdoors again. She did her business, and asked to come back in. By this time, I had set down her food, and was so completely wide awake, that there was no getting back to sleep, and so I checked my internet stuff.

I found out that my email hasn't been downloading properly for 3 days. Now that might not be much to you, but to me, it's almost a big problem. I belong to a great number of groups and so end up with a lot of email, most of which I delete, but I do scan everything. I decided that there was something corrupted, so I deleted a bunch of email from my pop account, and then deleted a lot of email from my web account. When the download still didn't work, I transferred my email to another email account, knowing that yahoo was having a problem with their pop server. This has happened before, and after losing a bunch of mail, trying to to re-create my account, I got an email from yahoo--"sorry for the inconvenience, our pop-server went down and it took 3 days to fix it". Sigh.

So this time, I deleted only half of what I did the last time before I realized what happened. It's a good thing to have a google account for email if you have a yahoo pop account...then you can just transfer your email to google and pop it from there. For quite certain, both of them are NOT going to go down at the same time. But yahoo's seems to go down pretty regularly. There was no link on the web that I could locate to notify yahoo of their obvious troubles. So it was a wait and see sort of thing. Totally maddening.

By now, it's 5:30am, and time for me to get up and get my shower taken. So I didn't sleep from 3am on--and I.was.simply.exhausted.

I went to work and found out that the rest of the clerical staff had been given part of the day off, and that by afternoon, I would be alone with the telephone.

Groan.

I also had the mail today.

Groan some more.

And 4 boxes of files that had to be reviewed, input into record's center, and re-boxed and sent to record's center.

Groan indefinitely.

Plus the regular work of openings and voice mail.

Oh, just kill me now and get it over with!

I did make it through the day, by taking one thing at a time, getting up and walking around every few minutes, and then, when it came my time to go, I asked the supervisor if he wanted me to stay until 5--because I usually leave at 4, you see, and somebody else covers the phone--he seemed to think he had a plan, but then said he had already turned in the time sheets, and couldn't pay for overtime, etc...and I said "oh, heck, I'll just come in late or something next week.."

This was agreeable to him, and so we tabled the matter, and I stayed until 5...which prompted one of the other managers to say "Wow, Tenna. You made it through the whole day plus an extra hour."

And I replied, "yeah, what's an hour more when you're already dead?"

Which made other people in the office laugh themselves silly. I mean, it's Friday. There's nearly nobody left in the office. You're tired. Your ready to go home and put your feet up. You must do something to keep the remaining people alive, right? Just because you're a zombie, doesn't change matters that much.

So when I got home (I don't remember driving at all.), I went to bed, covered up my head, and slept from about 5:30 to 8pm. I woke up just in time to watch Bones and House, and a little of the local news. Then I took a sleeping pill and went back to bed to get the rest I needed so that I could do some work today.

Now this is my plan, but there is not one single reason why I have to do it...I'm just going to do it. Hubby wants the garage cleaned out. We are going to work on the garage so that we can get the car inside. We want to do this before the 4th of July so that the firework bits don't fall on the cars. The second car is going in the barn.

Hubby also wants other things every day and twice on Sunday, but this Sunday he's going to be at his mother's working on her lawn, and I get to knit on the socks I started on Tuesday night. Speaking of which, since Tuesday night, all I've gotten done is a little more than an inch of cuff, so I have a bit to go.

I also have some sample knitting to do for Joann's and I have to go in to get the patterns. I have one, and that will keep me busy for a little while, but after that, I can work on the socks again. If I go to my mother in law's house, I'll work on stuff there. I have lots of time on Sunday, to rest after working in the garage today.

So you probably won't see me this weekend, as I'll be out and about doing--but I'll try to make it back when I figure out what my next turn of adventure is going to be for my book.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

I had to repost this from my email. I didn't bother to post the poster's name, since I'm sure it didn't come from her (other than email) and don't have time right at the moment to get the author, as I'm on my way to the office, but I thought you all could use a REALLY funny story.

The President was in the Oval Office when his telephone rang.

"Hello, Mr. President ?" a heavily accented Yooper voice said. "This is Sven, up here at Olie’s Bar and Steak House in Bruce Crossing, Michigan. I am callin' to tell ya'll that we are officially declaring war on ya!"

"Well Sven," the President replied, "This is indeed important news! How big is your army?"

"Right now," said Sven, after a moment’s calculation, "there is myself, my cousin Olie, my next-door-neighbor Randy, and the whole dart team from Pine's Bar. That makes eight!"

The President paused. "I must tell you Sven that I have one million men in my army waiting to move on my command."

"Wow," said Sven. "I'll have to call ya back!"

Sure enough, the next day, Sven called again. "Mr. President, the war is still on! We have managed to acquire some infantry equipment!"

"And what equipment would that be Sven?" the President asked.

"Well sir, we have two 4-wheelers, a snowmobile, and Harry's trail grooming machine."

The President sighed. "I have tell you Sven, that I have 16,000 tanks and 14,000 armored personnel carriers Also I've increased my army to one and a half million since we last spoke"

"Lord above", said Sven, "I'll be getting back to ya."

Sure enough, Sven rang again the next day. "Mr. President, the war is still on! We have managed to git ourselves airborne! We up an' modified Olie’s ultra-light with a couple of shotguns in the cockpit, and four boys from the coffee shop have joined us as well!"

The President was silent for a minute then cleared his throat. "I must tell you, Sven, that I have 10,000 bombers and 20,000 fighter planes. My military complex is surrounded by laser-guided, surface-to-air missile sites. And since we last spoke, I've increased my army to TWO MILLION!"

"Oh Lord," said Sven, "l'll have to call you back."

Sure enough, Sven called again the next day. "Mr. President! I am sorry to have to tell you that we have had to call off this here war."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said the President. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

Well, sir," said Sven, "we've all sat ourselves down and had a long chat over a few beers, and come to realize that there's just no way we can feed two million prisoners."

MICHIGAN CONFIDENCE CANNOT BE SHAKEN!

If you're from Michigan, you won't even need to be told to pass this on. If you are not, all you can do is be jealous!

Monday, June 20, 2011

My brother made amends with our father before he died. My brother and I are quite different. If I celebrate father's day at all, it will probably be in memory of my husband's father, my Canasta partner, a carpenter by trade, and an all-around family-type man, who treated everyone with honor and respect. He seemed to me a good man, who died way too soon.

My father, on the other hand, and pardon me, while I try very hard to not seem extremely bitter about it all, was a horrible man, and by saying that, let me now say that I am being truly kind to the man, for he deserves a LOT worse.

He spent his entire marriage to my mother, cheating with other women, and continued to cheat on her with a girlfriend from high school. Not only did he beat her until I turned 16, when she finally stood up to her entire five foot two frame against his five foot ten frame, and told him "Go ahead. Must make you a really big man to hit a little woman," he also assaulted me when I was 16.

He was a smoker and an alcoholic and nothing was ever his fault. I begged my mother for years to leave him. The problem was she married him when she was 14. Other than raising kids, she had no skills to speak of, and had several siblings on welfare, and didn't want to end up in that kind of situation. He took away her whole life, and even though she is much better off now for it all, he CONTINUES to screw her, even though he is dead and gone.

As far as I'm concerned, it took TOO LONG for the man to die. I can't begin to tell you how often I used to wish that the police would stop him on the road for drinking and driving, while at the same time, worrying about how we would function, for our family was truly dysfunctional in many, many ways. I'm so surprised that I survived, it's not even funny.

People tell me that I should forgive and forget, that he was, after all, my father. But how can you do that, when you wished all your life, that your dad was someone else? ANYONE else. And friendships? Forget it. No way I was going to bring someone home to spend the night in my house. If I could have, I would have run away, and I did try once. The rest of the time, I was a hostage in my own home--and it was never safe. You always had to be on your toes for the next outburst. It was hell.

Considering all that, remembering all those times--it's no wonder I'm angry with men in general--even reasonably good men, because all they have to do is slip up and be a MAN, just once. After that, it's pretty much all over. And sure, he had his own issues, but he was never responsible for them, and for darn sure, there's just no way that I'm going to allow him or anyone else "blame his behavior" on a disease. That's BS of the highest degree and part of the reason why no one takes responsibility for themselves anymore. It's no more a disease than being a homosexual is. Choosing to drink, to do drugs of any kind, is just that. A CHOICE. Sorry, but I tend to call em like I see em.

And now, that all is said and done, and he's gone, he has done ANOTHER ignominy from the grave. The divorce decree declared that he was to maintain her name on his life insurance, and that she was to get it when she died. The insurance company has determined that she did not have a quatro for it, and therefore was not entitled to it, and so now, she has to go back to her lawyer to find out how the lawyer dropped the ball in securing this for her. He never maintained the health insurance on her, either, and he was supposed to do that as well. Yes, he pretty much stole my mother's entire life away, and her ability to make her own way in the world without him. Forty three years of her life--just tossed out the door to go be with his girlfriend...AND THEN...after he married her, he started coming around and diddling with my mother.

Do I hate him? Oh yeah, and I have no compunctions stating so. Would I contact him on purpose? Not on your life. The last 20 years or so have been difficult, but free of his influence, and for that I am supremely grateful. I found out once that he had tried to come to my house, and I made it clear to my mother, because she was living there at the time, that he was NOT welcome in my home--not even if I wasn't present. She argued that my son still wanted to be able to see him. I told her that he could "look him up" when he was older. There was no way that my father was going to influence my son any more than he already had.

But my brother? He's horribly broken up about it all. Losing his dad, and all that. And while I'm not throwing confetti in the air and putting on a party, I can honestly say that I'm not losing any sleep over it either. I spent most of my young life crying mostly from loneliness and grief over all the pain he caused all of us. I don't think I really want to spend another minute on it.

And so I won't. Instead, I'll tell you a little bit about my husband's father.

There are touches of my husband's father throughout our house and all over our property. As I said before, he was a carpenter by trade. When we did the remodel of our house, my husband's father assisted with most of the thought behind the work, and helped my husband figure out how. The inset cupboards were my idea, and my father in law made them a reality. He helped plan and build our 50 foot deck on our back porch, and then showed my husband how to calculate the stairway for it. He helped put in the kitchen cupboards, built the cabinet for my washer and dryer, built a closet in the front foyer, and installed the bathroom cupboard--a floor to ceiling thing. He also helped put in the one piece bathroom tub, and helped update the wiring in here. He laid flooring in the foyer, kitchen and breakfast nook. Everywhere I look, I see him.

He liked fishing, and he took hubby and I a couple of times. I understand that the family raised hogs for market, and there's a certain story about my hubby tricking his brother into standing on a piece of ice in the liquid hog manure pit...but we won't go there...it was a bit messy.

He was a tiger at Canasta, and more often than not, because my mother in law had this idea that if we played with our own "partner" we wouldn't have nearly as much fun...so my father in law was usually my partner. I know that, of the 4 of us, I was the weaker player, but he more than made up for it. After several years of play, he and I knew each other's playbook pretty well. We won more than we lost over those many years, but it was so much fun to play. When he was gone, I felt the loss keenly, and I wasn't sure why he waited until I left the hospital before he left the earth.

He was born an identical twin, and very close to his brother. When he became a man and married my mother in law, after he'd had the children he believed he wanted, he had a vasectomy. Then his wife got preggers. Say what? They figured that the vasectomy hadn't taken, so they went in and redid it.

Mother in law got pregnant again! What a surprise. This time, when they went into surgery, they found out that he had THREE tubes, instead of the normal two, and so was still very much ACTIVE. A further surgery, and that took care of the matter. In his lifetime he had 4 children. Six grand-children and two great-grand-children. At least I think that was all at the time. We got a big family picture done before he got sick, and this is how I like to remember him. Even though we have a picture in the living room without hair, he's still pretty lovable.

And I do miss him a lot. The grand-kids cried at the funeral. I would have been fine, if not entirely stoic, if it hadn't been for the grand-kids crying. All I could remember was dad letting them take the garden tractor and put the wagon on it, carting everybody around the property. I don't think that's been done save perhaps once since dad died, when their parents brought them up on holiday. I'm hoping they come again this summer.

As for my hubby, I'm sure he realized that it was Father's day. His daughter called to wish him a good day. I bought him some underwear. All around good present, actually, since the last time I bought them was at least 10 years ago. I get them every 10 years or so, whether he needs them or not. However, his son didn't call. I'm not sure why. Hubby didn't think he'd get a call from his son, but I'm not sure why he didn't call. You would think that he would call--it's not like they were on bad terms or anything. I asked my hubby if he was thinking about his dad that day, and he said "yeah, some", and then he got up and said "Let's go outside and burn brush!"

And so we did, because all in all, life goes on, and there are always other things to do to push life to it's fullest and get the most out of it...before you can't get anymore out of it. I suppose I come away from all this, wishing that things could have been different in the relationship with my own father, but there's really no sense to beating myself up about it. There comes a time in a little girl's life that she just quits trying and quits hoping that things will get better and change and be safe and if not happy, then at least reasonable. So that's where I'll leave it rest now.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

About a year ago, you might remember I introduced you to our new tv--we were so proud. I think it was the biggest one in the store at the time--not the BEST, but certainly the biggest. Now, they have 68" screen televisions that will do everything except run the bath water for you. Televisions that you can watch in 3D (with special glasses that only work for YOU--meaning that the tv comes is one set of glasses, and you have to order another pair SPECIAL at EXTRA COST of course, but I digress from my original intention here.

Tonight, our television said "ZZit" and went black.

There was no "Guys, I'm having a breakdown here" notice of any kind.

I'm telling you, they don't make televisions like they used to! We have THREE, count them, THREE analog televisions in the garage, and ONE still in our livingroom, even though the flat screen takes up the lion's share of the same wall--and we are too lazy to get the converter, attach it to the darn thing, and continue to watch the movie that we'd been watching--A Robert Redford flick, at that!

I don't know. My smaller screen wouldn't pull in the channel in the very next room, attached to the same wall that the bigger screen shares. Something about RF channels, is what my computer guru told me. Okay, sounds plausible. So of course, you know, that I contacted my computer guru to see if there was something he knew. He hasn't called me back yet.

So if someone decides to rip us off in the near future, you might as well forget it. The tv looks nice, but it don't work. In the meanwhile, I'll have to rent "An Unfinished Life" from God only knows where, just so I can watch the last 20 minutes or so.

An Unfinished Life and an Unfinished Movie. I think I'm batting a thousand here.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

A friend of mine and I dropped over to the movie theater to watch Thor.

What a hunk! I do think I said that in my last post.

Well, come to find out, he was born in August 1983. That makes him four years younger than my only son. I'm old enough to be his mother!

This is quite discouraging. At knit night, they called me a cougar. Shoot, all I wanted to do was watch him eat crackers in bed, but I didn't think he was just a baby! For crying out loud! What do I do now?

There's going to be at least another movie about Thor, but who knows when that's going to come. I do know that he'll be in a couple of movies in 2012. Something to look forward to, at least.

But 1983? I couldn't keep up with 1983 if I wanted to! If I had to! Not even in my dreams! Even so, Anthony Hopkins was also in the film, and golly, he's getting so old--but he was old in the movie "Three Brothers" too. The man is ancient--old enough to be MY father, yet he was Thor's father in the movie, and I think just now, that he would have to be my option (if there were only men from Thor available)--and well, frankly, that's just even more depressing!

The show was good, although I really don't remember the plot, per se, since all I could think about was watching him eat crackers and all that...the film was full of special effects, and lots of cool and different views of worlds. There was even a metal, fire-breathing knight--covered head to toe in armor--come to destroy the earth and such, but you have to know something about Norse mythology to keep up with what's really going on behind the scenes. Since I knew a little, it wasn't hard to keep my friend up to snuff--although I wonder if she already knew the stories.

So if you don't know here goes my version:

In Norse mythology, there is Odin, the All-Father, sort of like the top-God person. He was a hero, a giant of a man. He lived in Asgard, a planet/star universe not unlike our own, made a little more famous with StarGate SG-1. There was the "Tree of Life" which was the bridge between worlds--not unlike a wormhole, and allowed people to travel between. Then there were Odin's son's, Thor (God of Thunder, and War) and Loki (God of Mischief). Thor was first in line to become King of Asgard, but Loki was jealous and wanted the throne, too. However, Loki was not Odin's natural son, but an adopted son from another world with which the Asgardian's were at war.

There was a break in to Asgard, and it nearly resulted in the theft of an article from the Asgard archives that would allow this other race to destroy the tree of life, and cause the whole "rainbow bridge" to be destroyed so that no one could come and go. Loki was involved in the break in, but no one knew at the time. Thor decided to take some of his friends and go to this other world and find out why, a fight ensues with this other world, and he comes back, his father pulling his ear, losing his kingship and being tossed, without his powers, to Earth.

He's found by beautiful Natalie Portman, who is in charge of a small research team that sits out in the desert at night, watching the stars, and taking notes and measurements. One of the team uses a stun gun on him, Natalie runs over him twice. He ends up being taken by the "Men in Black" while trying to retrieve his hammer.

To find out what happens next, you'll have to watch the movie or read the book. Thor has lots of adventures in the old stories and comics, so I'm sure you'll take the time to look and research yourself. But do see the movie. It has lots of action, and the special effects are really quit breathtaking.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Yesterday was SUCH a busy day. The day went so quickly, I barely had time to finish my work! I did what I could get done, and left the rest for today. It's going to be another busy day today, but a short one for all that, because I'm leaving work at 2pm today.

There's a movie I want to see at the theater. The trailer has a songtrack that I'm just dying to have--just to be able to play it in my car. I posted it to my facebook page. Since it's already had over 37 million viral views, I thought it was pretty much overkill to put it here.

So you'll have to run over to youtube to see the trailer for THOR. Yes, I think the Hammer dude is sexy as all that AND a bag of chips AND dip. (I mean, you can't eat chips without dip, can you?) I swear to you, this guy could eat crackers in my bed, and I wouldn't mind just standing there and WATCHING it. Sigh. He gives me the sighs. Sigh.

On the knitting front..not a durn thing. On the crochet front, I have several blocks for an afghan. I **so** want to knit! But you know how it is when you can't think of anything to write about? (I resemble that remark.) Well, I also get to a point where I can't think of anything I really need to knit. And knitting rather is a cool weather thing to do. So during summer, I generally crochet or sew--

But today--the MOVIES. Then maybe to knit night where I'll pick up the rest of my yarn for my kid's birthday present--it was *meant* to be his birthday present (his birthday being tomorrow makes it a little hard to do the whole thing in one day--not that I haven't pulled off miracles like that, but this time--I don't think so.). So it's probably going to end up a Christmas present instead, which will be a good thing, because he won't be able to wear it in summer ANYWAY.

I might also go with my girlfriend looking for a car. She needs a car, and then she can get a job. She needs a job. She doesn't want to be a burden to anybody. So far, she's doing pretty good, and we all want to keep it that way. I'm giving her a bag of homespun to knit with--just to keep her hands busy--until she finds her job. In the meanwhile, she can maybe sell a shrug. They're pretty easy to make.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

The card is marked "Stability", and the cups are lined up to look as if they are all balanced one atop the other.

Most decks show this card as the "get your wish" card. It basically means that things are going your way, and things are flowing right to your desktop.

Well, I sure WISH things were flowing right to my desktop. I just played a game of Scrabble on Facebook, and lost, but only by a few points. Final score was 276-262, and yes, I know that it's an entire 14 points. We were pretty evenly matched, even though she used words I'd never heard of--like Qi. What's a Q without a U--lonely, I guess. Qi just seems even lonelier without U. Aw, did you see that? I just made a funny.

Anyway, she got all the good letters, too, like the Q and the X--but I got Z and a triple letter score that sent me 5 points over her just toward the end of the game. After that, all I had was U's E's and I's. Frankly, I couldn't find a place for them. I finally used my last letter on "UT", which is apparently a word in the dictionary, used up all my letters, while she still had a "C" and an "A". I got 4 points for using all my letters and she lost 4. But she still won by 14. It was a shame.

I'll probably play Scrabble again someday. It seems to be pretty cut-throat.

It means I have to wring every last drop of free time out before bedtime when I have to go to sleep in preparation for Monday.

It's my least favorite day of the week, partly because it's so busy, but mostly because it is followed by Monday, when I have to go back to work. The prospects there are GRIM to say the least.

I bought a new sundress at Meijer's. I love the color, but the woman in the dress has never been photogenic. Still, it's a cool dress, and even though it's only 52 degrees outside, I still plan to wear it to breakfast.

Here's my husband's green thumb. Plants are his passion, I suppose, and he's thinking of getting a greenhouse. I think that it should be set up down by the creek bed. He thinks it should be out on the other side of the barn. I think it won't be SEEN from that side of the house, and I think that if it's near the creek bed, people from the main road going by will see it more readily, and we can put signs on it to draw folks from the main road. I'm not sure how all that's going to fly with the township and all--or whether they have rules about that sort of thing.

But a greenhouse is a lot of $$ and a lot of work. He thinks that it will keep him busy during retirement. I'm sure it will. But in our area of the "world" where it gets colder than a witch's (nevermind), keeping it warm in the winter is a REAL issue. I figure he thinks that he can get used oil to burn to keep it heated. I'm not sure that burning used oil would provide enough heat--not to mention, where's the SMOKE going to go? I mean, emissions, man! Not that I'm some hippie freak, but I do have this thing about my own carbon footprint. I'd sooner raise diamonds or dig for gold in Alaska. And I'm not that fond of cold weather besides.

I dislike the heat even more.

Come to think of it....

perhaps Michigan isn't the best place for me to be. Montana and Idaho sound good to me--no people for miles and miles. Not that I'm anti-social, mind you. I just have this book to write.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The Shaman
Also known as the Magician
Has all the tools to make mischief or to make things happen.

But he's also very tricky with his sleight of hand, and you have to be wary of his movements, and watch his hands closely--even then, he can fool you, and ultimately, disappear right before your eyes. Things never appear as they truly are with the Shaman, and while his actions may seem motivated by the goodness in his heart, you can always understand that there is some sort of ulterior motive behind it, for he does nothing unless it suits him and benefits him at the same time. Even when the benefit isn't immediate.

Now the Queen, that's me usually. The Shaman represents my ex husband who BELIEVES he has all the tools, but doesn't, and that's why he's reversed. The five of cups is entitled Regret, notice it's reversed...which doesn't mean the opposite necessarily, but next to the Magician/Shaman card, I would say it probably does. So the reading goes as follows...

I don't have any regrets having overturned the Magician in his attempt to control situations. In the end, the Queen of Swords comes out on top EVERY time.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

I'm in my bedroom, typing this blog, and I realize that I've got goosebumps on my arms. Either it's cooling off outside, or I'm sick. We have the air conditioner going, but it's only blowing air around, since I turned up the thermostat so that I didn't freeze to death. Otherwise, I'd really be cold.

But outside the bedroom door, the humidity is, well, humid. Sort of like walking through water, without all the water. If it were really water, you could walk in and out of it, and be cooled off when the breeze floated by.

Right now, the trees are screaming for water, leaves turned over to catch the rain that isn't supposed to come until later, when things really cool down. There's a stiff wind too, as evidenced by my hair being in all sorts of directions on my head because I had to buy gas at the "pump your own" station today. Imagine Lady GaGa on a bad hair day, after a rough night when she got no sleep, and you'd have my look. Oh yeah, it's all over the place--spiky here, flat there. I have what's called a combination head. I've tied my hair up, but it's still hanging down, still on my neck, and making me feel hot, yet I have goose bumps on my arms. I think about the trees, and realize that they probably won't get the water they're waiting for.

I don't think the goosebumps are going to go away, either, unless I turn off the fan--which I'm not about to do.

I've been considering working on a couple more blocks for the afghan. I bought a couple more skeins of Vanna's--another mustard and an eggplant (read that gold and purple). Why people can't name colors according to the Crayola Crayon box I'll never know...of course, that might have been "updated" along with all the other politically correct ways of saying things. I don't imagine that there's a crayon color named "Flesh" anymore. We can't have little kids running around saying "Gimme my FLESH back..." No, I just don't think it would be proper.

Wow. I think I just beat Barb Cooper at digression pool.

Anyway, I'm sitting here, thinking about different things, and I wonder about people who sit and think about nothing at all. Random thoughts bust through my consciousness constantly barraging my senses with data from all different kinds of things. It's like watching the news, except it isn't very news-worthy. I wonder if anybody else thinks the way I do--I wonder if they think they're going a little bit bonkers. Then I wonder if I should pull a card and ask what all this is about.

So I do.

What the heck? I pull my significator, the Queen of Swords, reversed, the 5 of wands, and the 7 of Cups.

Ergggg.

Basically, it's saying I've got too much time on my hands. Go watch some television with your husband.

Now wands usually have to do with work stuff, and this card in the Celtic version is titled Courage. The card has a figure on it, drawn into a hill that can be seen from the air. Sometimes, I see this card as a "get out of jail free" card--because the figure is standing between two rods. He looks, for all he's worth to be just getting out of prison. I'm not sure why I think it's a "he" rather than a "she", because in other celtic cards depicted this way, they are clearly male/female. Perhaps this guy is "Male-ish" because of his angular shape.

The card, as I said stands for courage. I draw this card when I'm going to have a bad day at the office, or an argument with my husband (who [sigh] isn't built this way). It could also mean an unwelcome visitor that I have to be especially cautious and careful what I say.

It can also mean don't go to lunch, there's a strange man that just got out of jail (or out of a bad marriage) laying in wait just outside the door for you.

Those are just some of the meanings. It's a call to arms for me, because I have this weak spot for men generally. I either love them or I hate them. If they are nice to me, they get to live. If they aren't, they find the true wrath of a woman scorned.

And so it goes....but for now, I must get to my car with my knitting and my purse and head for the hills where he lies in wait. He'll wait a long time, because I don't go that way to work anymore. HA!

Monday, June 6, 2011

I was awake half the night talking and reminiscing with an old friend until after 11pm, and then was so "geeked" about it, I couldn't sleep at all.

I had taken a sleeping pill, but it never did work. I sure expected to end up holding down one key (probably the z key) because my head would fall over on the keyboard, but I was so glad to chatter with this person, that I lost all track of time and space.

And now...I'm about tired...or maybe about asleep. I'm in my room, and the bed is calling my name...Serta....Serta...which isn't my name, but it might as well be. All I have to do is realize that my bed is talking and I think to myself...okay, woman, time to get some rest. You're hallucinating (still).

But I couldn't rest without telling you about the cards I drew tonight.

7 Pentacles reversed
10 pentacles
The Web (#11)

Explainer: The High Priest (#1) reversed.

And it made no sense to me in this altered state...so I'm going to head on over to the tarot website and see what I can find out.

You've given things a little bit of thought, though not quite enough as far as another is concerned. This morning's run of good fortune has you considering a change of direction, but things may not be what they seem. The end result isn't the change you expect.

Well, that was pretty vague...but my consciousness is feeling pretty vague, too. If anyone out there has a better explanation to what it might mean, feel free to leave me a message.

There are a couple of people on Facebook that I have finally blocked. I feel that I don't need to read their constant haranguing with each other, with other people, and I certainly don't need either of them in my life.

They are caustic to others and poisonous to me. Frankly, I'm glad they are basically gone from Facebook completely. By blocking them, I no long get messages in the middle of the night from them, and I no longer see their hateful responses to others on the walls of my friends.

These people are toxic people. They say they care, when in fact they do not. For a while, their behaviors were hilarious to me, and now, I think that I need to move away from the fear and the pain and the hyper-vigilance that has been my watch-word for most of my life.

Yes, by all means, I intend to stay "on this side of the state"; however, I will continue to do the things that I love doing--such as spinning, knitting and crafts. I will continue to attend the Living History Show, the Kalamazoo Highland Festival and the Alma Festival for the sake of my friend Ray, who may not be long for this world--to listen and grieve my own losses. If I stay over here, it's only because I do respect my family and the people I call my friends. In like manner, you should stay on your side of the state and stop stalking me. If I'm friends with someone you knew and now do not like anymore, that is MY business. Do not make it yours.

I was a good person until I met you. I am still a good person, and I care a lot about people. I do not give a tinker's damn about child abusers, wife beaters or people who mistreat others to make themselves appear more human. I am a champion for the underdog, an intelligent human being, and a VALUABLE AND TRUSTWORTHY friend to those who deserve to have my friendship.

It's so sad that you have to lie in order to make yourself look more important. It was always you that had the problem, and you drew me into it, severed all my friendships, and got in the way of my making new ones because you wanted all the control. When you didn't get it, you left. Every relationship you've ever had was built on those same lies. I am sick to death and tired of living with them. If your current relationship knew that she was severing her relationships with people to side with you, and that eventually you would finish doing to her what you did to me, she would leave you in a heartbeat. Instead, she is so afraid you'll leave, that she'll do anything, including support your abusive nature, and deny her own good sense, in order to keep you in her life. Deep down, she knows you are destroying things. It's making her angry. I know what you're doing to her, because it's what you did to me.

I have been done with you for a long time. And now, at least I don't have to look at you. I don't have to read what you say, and even if you email me, I can immediately delete you and if you call, I can hang up. There is no way that I will ever forget your voice. And forget my name. I'm not sure why it matters to you so much. All I've ever did was to give it a GOOD reputation. You have a very bad reputation in many circles. I can't believe that I ever had feelings for you. I can't believe that I ever cared about you, and I can't believe that I married you, even though I knew there was something about you that just didn't seem right.

I kept your last name for my own reasons. I am not going to give you the satisfaction of knowing why, but you can be CERTAIN AND SURE that it had nothing to do with YOU. You are a life sucker. A leach and a letch. You prey on women in pain.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

I don't think there's a better smell in the world, than the smell of good coffee on a Sunday morning. I don't particularly LIKE coffee that much, and I put a lot of preservatives in it to make it palatable to me. I use Equal, rather than sugar to help me keep the carbs down, and I use Coffee Mate Chocolate Flavored creamer--because I like chocolate.

In fact, if I could, I would have one cup of chocolate Hershey's syrup instead, but that would really defeat the "watching my carb intake" now, wouldn't it?

So I drink coffee...then I drink Diet Pepsi the rest of the day. Hubby forgot to put the carton in the frig, so we will be having warm Diet Pepsi all day. Sigh. A cold one would hit the spot right about now...but I'll drink coffee first.

I'm interested to know how many people drink coffee in the morning, and their reason's for doing so. I'm sure that someone has put up a poll SOMEWHERE in bloggerland--I suppose I'll have to "google" it and see. Just to get some statistics on the matter. Not that it really matters, of course, but that's how it is.

For instance, some people aren't coherent until they have had their first cup of coffee. Must be my ex-husband hasn't had any coffee for the last 4 or 5 days. He's been pretty incoherent lately. Perhaps that's his problem.

Some, drink it for the taste.
Some, drink it to clear the palate.
Some, known as "coffee connoisseurs" won't put anything in their coffee, and drink it black, claiming that those who put "stuff" in their coffee really don't like coffee.
Some, prefer their coffee weak, and others, strong. Either way, to me, it's a bitter brew.

I like to put my own beans in a processor and relish the fresher taste. Others go out and buy small packets and brew it one cup at a time in a little coffeemaker (I think it's called a Kerbit, but I could be wrong there...another "google" is in store, methinks.), and brew one cup at a time. To me, a waste of good electricity. Make 6 cups and be done with it.

Some like Cappuccino, some expresso and some Late (which is mostly milk). I've never had an Expresso, and from the sound of it, I don't think I want any. I've heard it's coffee so strong your spoon stands up in the cup, and you'd best not leave it there for long--implying that the coffee will eat the silverware. I think to myself...imagine what it's doing to my guts? But I understand that people swear by it.

I mean, people...go buy some beans and chew on them like a snack, for pities sake!

Some people drink coffee to calm the nerves, others to RAMP them up, some people don't need any more winding up--having enough of their own reserves in the morning, and I wonder why they drink coffee.

When I was in high school, and in the school plays, the director, Roger Koger (not pronounced Rojher Kojher, but Koger was with a "hard" g), would set out carafes of coffee, always black, claiming that it helped keep people awake and also kept the vocal chords clear. Adding "additives" slurred proper diction by coating the throat lining, resulting in poor projection.

Ya, that's what I said. Nice story, doctor. Back it up with facts, please.

Some say coffee is good for you, and still others will tell you it's not. Depends on the poll and the results of the statistics, whether you're democrat, republican, christian, agnostic or atheist. There's a statistic for every modality of thought.

Me, I just like the smell of it in the morning. That's my story and I'm sticking to it, but while I do that...maybe just one more cup.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

There is trouble in paradise. While it's true things could go either way, the less I work at it, the faster things will go.

I'm not sure what all that means, and it has spiritual tones to it. I can't really discuss it, due to it's private nature. The weirdness of last night's dreaming (or more appropriately, THIS MORNING'S dreaming) seems to indicate that things are moving in the background.

It's a hot day--very humid. I thought I might take a shower an hour ago, but I've been a lazy girl today. Hubby and I drove around to local garbage sales, and I found a LOT of yarn at a couple places, and he gladly bought a LOT of yarn for me to knit with (since I really REALLY like knitting, of course), so when I got home, I quickly pulled out the remainder of my Vanna's Ruby Red and finished crocheting the block for the afghan. Then I pulled the Log Cabin Scrappy Doo out of the bag, and knit several rows on it. The rows are getting longer the more yarn I put on the outside, and it's taking more yarn to do a single row, but not yet a whole skein. The blanket is almost 20" across now. It feels huge, heavy and warm on my legs, which I don't need right at the moment, so I might opt to hold off on it for summer and work on something lighter.

Like the Aeolian Shawl at Knitty. I've had this on my mind for some time now, and think I'm just about ready to start it.

But which yarn should I use? I bought several today that would work--all on cones--beautiful yarns that would knit up this shawl, which is just a little out of my comfort zone and includes nupps, which I've never done, but they look so yummy!

But I'm not sure how well the sweat on my hands will work with the wool coming off the cone, which is VERY fine. So, I'm procrastinating.

Never a good thing for me to do, but there you go.

So in the meanwhile, I decided to blog and let my monitor heat up the air a little more. I might check the stats for my page in a minute and see how many people have been here for one reason or another. There has been thunderstorm watches for all around us, but it's only hazy here. I suppose a storm could pop up out of no where, but it's cooling off now, so it's a little less probable.

I wish hubby would have put in the air conditioner yesterday. He's been quite the slacker lately. Actually, that's not true. He and a friend cut down all the lower limbs on the trees and firs in the yard and dragged them behind the barn. Being mostly pine, they will burn VERY hot, and hubby is concerned that when he burns them, he'll also burn down the barn. MUCH too close for comfort. So when he decides to do the burning, he will do so, further from the barn, a little at a time, and when the pile gets smaller (imagine a room 12x12, piled to the ceiling, which is how it stands at the moment), to touch it off. It will burn fast, because pine lights quickly being a soft wood, and turns to charcoal in no time at all. When I was younger, I had a fireplace, and I burned up a lot of 2 x 4's in my fireplace. I found out later, that wasn't really such a good idea, since it builds tar in the chimney much quicker than hardwoods do. I still wish hubby would have put in the a/c. It's just too smokin' in the house for me today.

Slow news day, today. I think everyone might be suffering with the heat/humidity. How about you?

I had a dream that included a friend from JoAnn's, the JoAnn's store, my ex-husband, a man who lived across the street in a small bungalow, with a pool in back and the ocean a little farther back, and my old neighbor from when I lived in a trailer park--but not my neighbor, no. Her son's wife, who was no longer married (the son, not the mother, although she wasn't married either, but I digress. And if you could keep up with all of that, well, you're a better man than I am, and that's for darn sure!).

The dream began with me in a JoAnn's store, and my friend (who resigned from the job) was trying to figure out how to put together a classy display for the front of the store. We were shopping together, and we took all of our cart contents to the back of the store--when the day was over, I went "home" to my ex husband, and life as his wife, bored to the teeth desperate housewife--that was me.

The man across the street turned out to be a tax evader. He was "in the railroad business". Well, he certainly was a loser. He tried to railroad me pretty hard, even though he knew I was married to my ex husband. Wait, did I just type that? It was an interesting, although confusing and complicated dream, and that's how I know when it's a dream and not reality, when I'm something that I would never be in a million years--my ex husband's wife.

One of my old school chums was in the dream too, and he was helping my husband (er, ex husband) to protect my honor when this guy reaches into my dress and undoes my brassiere. Of course, I slapped him--are you kidding? I'd seen the parade of loose women come in and out of his bungalow. I know I was being flirtatious, but it didn't merit THAT.

I tried to palm him (rich guy, good looking, great space) off my my neighbor's ex-daughter in law...after slapping her a couple times because she was being STUPID about it. Never did like that girl.

All of a sudden, there's my ex husband, tackling this guy with the friend from high school, they taped his hands and half of his face and beat the living snot out of him, that's when I went inside the bungalow and found the shoes. Funny how you remember certain things, and not others, isn't it? He kept a pair of matching sandals (silver slingbacks with 2" heels) in his bungalow in a size that he could wear and a size big enough for a transvestite, so I presume that he was a tad perverted, too. Perfect for my neighbor's ex-daughter in law. (You have to understand that I didn't know about the tax evader stuff until after this cursory "search" of the bungalow.)

I stepped out the back, and that's when the cops came. I slipped down into the deep end of the drained pool to hide, then decided I'd look guilty, since my ex husband and the guy from high school were responsible for beating the guy senseless, and presuming that the guy had called the cops, I figured I'd better get out and start back to the front of the house to meet the cops from the yard, rather than from the inside of the house. I hadn't disturbed anything, but those shoes surely disturbed me.

When I got to the front, they were hauling the guy to the squad car in cuffs, and my ex husband puts his arm around my waist and says "He told you most of his business was in another country--Luxembourg--in railroads. Fact is, the feds have wanted him for years for tax evasion, and finally caught up with him."

It was about that time that my neighbor's ex daughter in law showed up in a stunning long white crepe gown to go out on a date with him. When she saw him being stuffed into the back of the cop car, she came up to me and tried to slap me, but I stopped her easily. We watched the cop car fade into the distance on the main road.

That's when we threw a party, and all the local tugboat captains came.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

I get back to my book, and everyone vanishes! I had 33 hits two days ago, 17 yesterday and so far, zero today. Must be you guys don't care much for my story?

Or maybe you're all guys and paranoid now?

Well, I will continue on another day.

I had a class at JoAnn's today. It wasn't too bad, but it didn't get me home in time to watch my favorite show for Thursday night, which apparently has been cancelled or else due to the end of the season, it's just playing reruns, neither of which was palatable.

But I come home to find my husband watching Glee!

Holy cow! Who died and where did they take my husband?

My husband doesn't watch Glee!
My husband makes FUN of Glee!
He laughs (ha ha!) when it comes on! But there he is, watching it, presumably because it's "all that was on".

Yes, I'm sure.

A little excitement at the Governor's workplace, though, I understand--some substance (white) inside an envelope--I would hazard a guess, but wouldn't want to get anybody into trouble. Frankly, it was more likely a delivery of special foot powder, as we all know how odorous is the Governor's job...oh, wait, maybe that should be onerous? Whatever. Either, or--will make a man sweat. I guess that the person who opened the mail claimed that their hand felt odd (or something like that), and the person was cleared and sent home. Well, it sounds like a good excuse to me! Getting sent home by the boss? A paid holiday? Yeah! I'm all for that! I bet there's a rash of these white powder envelopes come Monday. Sheesh! Not that I'd know something about it--Oh, heck no! That's not my bag (of cocaine). Never touch the stuff. White powder, that is.

In any case, it would appear that there is a rankled customer--but you knew that would happen, didn't you? People are really complaining about the leadership in Michigan, but guys, get a clue! Even the president is starting to feel like he's not got a snowball's chance in ...okay, let's just say they'll be ice skating over at the devil's house before Obama gets a bill passed in the house. Frankly, the whole country is in a complete mess (according to my student this evening). She's taking her pension and heading for Alaska. Frankly, I think I'd like to go with her. I hear they're offering land in Alaska for free if you stay a year. She's only going for three months. Frankly, if they would promise me that I could sleep the entire time that the sun DOESN'T shine, there--I might consider going. As long as I got paid all the same. I could stand to hibernate just about now. I wonder if you get anything for 3 months? A paid cruise on the Caribbean Royal? An Ocean side hut in Tahiti? A small pyramid in Egypt? Okay, how about you just pay my mortgage?

In any case, friends, the country is going to Georgia in a handbasket. The infidels are taking over, and we're allowing it. Even the leadership knows it's all a bust. If you have money, take it and RUN--where ever you can.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

I sat in the car for a little while, then decided that I could probably mix in with the throng, perhaps I would catch sight of them again. Locals milled about, hurrying to get to their places of employment. Gated entrances were opened and the general public was allowed inside the various shops...a curio shop here, a book shop there--the odd Chinese Restaurant. I considered on that for a moment. Back in Michigan, you could find a Chinese place almost every city--not quite as bad as McDonald's, but darn close. I wondered if the food in Chinatown would be of the same genre--Americanized for the palate and full of carbs, cholesterol and MSG.

I had almost decided to step inside one of them for lunch that also had a Mongolian BarBQue atmosphere, when I caught sight of her stepping into the tourist trap establishment where they sold all the standard items that tourists buy--chopsticks, whirlygigs and the like. I stepped inside the restaurant and sat down facing the window, which was conveniently quasi-one-way glass, and watched the place across the street for her exit.

The waiter came around and I ordered a minor something--just pointed at the menu really, not wanting to spoil lunch. He bowed at me, and rushed off to the back. When he returned with a coffee and an eclaire, I thanked him, and off he went again, back to the kitchen. It reminded me of the way cockroaches scurried back and forth, and I smiled to myself. Another memory, long before I met my ex, of a CB Radio enthusiast with a household full of those insects that she never did seem able to get rid of. I pushed the eclaire into my mouth and ate it whole--it was pretty small, but a tasty morsel. I downed the coffee quickly when I saw her walk out of the store with a small brown bag (Ah, she bought herself some chopsticks.), and smiled and waved at her paramour, catching his attention at the end of the street, where he was apparently purusing comics. He looked up and waved, and then set the comic down and came to the middle of the street to meet her, linked arms and they walked out of Chinatown toward the train. I left a $5 bill on the table and motioned to the waiter, mumbled a few words and was out of the restaurant and into the bright sunny day.

The L-Train was already waiting, and I climbed into a different car, taking note of their car. I knew this train went downtown. From there, they could walk all over the city, maybe take the A-train topside and get a little view from a little higher up, just for kicks really, since there really isn't much to see on the A-train. It's walled in on both sides with buildings that rise higher than the A-train track sits. So you get a lot of windows with reflections that stare back at you.

The L-train is a nice ride from Chinatown to downtown. It's worth the money. You get to go into a tunnel and come out the other side and there you are--almost to Lake Michigan. It's like taking a stay-cation. You haven't really gone anywhere, but since the scenery changed, you feel as if you have. When the train stopped, I got off where I expected them to get out, and sure enough, there they were a little farther ahead of me, He looked tired to me for some reason. Did she keep him up all night? I smirked. Served him right. They walked along the wharf, and then ducked into the museum. I walked inside, too, and admired the paintings, the ancient arts and crafts and the tall replica of David, then stood beside the statue of Venus, and snapped a pic with my cell phone, trying to blend in. A short, balding, Japanese man came by, pushing up his bigger than life round glasses on his nose, and lifted one his his three Nikon's to his face and took a picture of the grate in the floor.

Don't ask. I'm not sure what that was all about. Chicago grows some weird ones, I think.

My "couple" stopped just outside the door for the museum and sat down in a small garden, smooched (more pictures with my "bluetooth"), while he made a few lurid moves--something about Russian Hands and Roman Fingers? Anyway, they tired of their game and headed back to the train station. This time, hopping on the one headed for the Sears Tower.

The Sears Tower was at one point the tallest building in the world. It wasn't anymore. It was just another tall building. There were five high speed elevators, but only 3 were marked for "visitors", the rest were used by employees there. Getting into one wasn't a problem. STAYING inside was a problem, when you thought about how it might get stuck, or it might fall. The guide told us all about it's high speed "get 'em there quick" motors and how it had never had an incident. Someone extremely fearful muttered, "So? There's always a first time." However, the view from the top was amazing. All three of us headed for a different direction. I went to look at the lake, because apparently you could see Michigan on a clear day, and sure enough--there she was! Home!

I didn't dare to look down, of course. You can only look out. The glass keeps people inside, and a scaffold-like landing all around the tower keeps you from seeing exactly how high up you are. If anyone knew how truly high up you were, you'd faint. She walked up to me, and told me about the view on the other side of the tower, and I pointed "over there" at Michigan. She mentioned that she lived there, which of course, I already knew, but nodded anyway. Then I wandered away, while he made his way over to her, put his arm around her waist and pointed across the water. Any closer, and they could have worn the same pair of jeans. Snap, snap.

The game was tiring, but a game nonetheless. They went on back downtown and had lunch and visited the library and it's copper leaf roof, Then on to dinner, I suppose. I hopped the train back to downtown and then the L-train back to my car. Locked and loaded, I put the vehicle in reverse and made for the toll road, and back home.

*****
When I returned home, I printed the pictures and a bill on my computer, placed the evidence and copies of my receipts for the expenses I'd incurred and shipped them all to an address in Colorado. When the courts decided on the division of property into her benefit due to his cheating, she would send me my due and a hefty hourly rate. The guy wasn't rich, but he had lots of funds socked away, and she intended to find each and every one and take him to task for his indiscretions, as this wasn't the only one, just the most recent.

It was at this point that I returned to Mrs. Draner's account. She was steadfastly hanging on to any shred of hope she could, even though I knew it was a done deal for her. I knew that as soon as he fixed his car, he would leave her behind for someone else's. He was a cretin. A trailer trash, smack talking cootie king.

Oh, I like that. Must remember to put that in my book! I grinned evilly from ear to ear. I have nearly enough now to bury him, but I'll keep this little ace in the hole for now. When I finally lay down my cards, he will have no escape. She will finally have the last laugh. Or was it me?

The next morning, the phone jangled the nerves with the wake up call from the front desk. Once I realized who and where I was, I answered it. The clerk on the other end of the phone answered with a bright, cheery, youthful, female voice that it was 5am, and this was my wake up call, have a wonderful day, and something else incomprehensible, since by now I had said my "thank you" and returned the phone to it's resting place, while the clerk continued to babble.

I yawned. I stretched. I made the decision to get up and go, even though my get up and go had got up and went a long, long time ago. When did all these aches and pains begin, anyway? I massaged the left shoulder and neck muscles that always seemed to follow a hard night's sleep in a strange place, and determined another warm shower might help loosen things up and wake me up the rest of the way.

After the shower, I pulled my laptop out of my suitcase, and plugged it into the nearest wall jack. I flipped on the WiFi, and got my cell phone and my "blue tooth" camera set nearby to load pictures and video to the hard drive. Once everything was hooked up and transferring, I finished dressing and put my tired old shoes back on, heading to the hotel lobby for the continental breakfast of coffee and donuts. I was hoping to grab an apple filled or a fritter but found only the small Dolly Madison white sugar donuts. I guess everyone's cutting back, but this was a disappointment. Even so, I grabbed a cup, some Equal, poured a teaspoon full of creamer into the cup, and then poured some coffee in from the black carafe. I stirred in the sugar substitute and took a taste. Too strong and hot, but it had been sitting there for a while, it reminded me that my neck was really throbbing, and perhaps I should get to the chiro next week. I decided on three donuts and headed back to my room.

I found the transfers finished, so I checked my email and Facebook accounts. In this day and age of social media, I found it really easy to check up on my accounts plus a few other people's accounts, just to see what they were up to. Some folks only updated once a week, others, once a month. I generally blogged daily. I thought it was important, not just for my readers, but for my own sense of mental stability. It helped keep my emotions in check. I could write in there all the weird stuff from my day, dreams that sometimes kept me awake at night, and who might be bugging me in some manner. I'd have notes on the crafts that were my hobby, but never so much as a word about my investigative side business. Somebody might think I was a stalker! As I was pondering the benefits of the blogging, I unhitched the phone and camera, and stuffed the phone in my pocket and the camera to my ear. Then I blogged a little bit about the Chicago Mall. Anyone reading this would probably think I was just another little old lady with her knitting, visiting far away places. Ah, what they didn't know!

After blogging, I returned the laptop to the suitcase, gathered up my things and headed for the car. It was going to be a busy day. I wasn't about to miss things for the world. As I passed the hotel lobby clerk, I turned and got more coffee, hoping for a more current batch, and I was happy to discover that they had refilled the carafe with a deep, chocolate brown brew that was neither too hot nor too cold, and the taste was right on the mark. I smiled to myself. The gal at the counter waved goodbye to me, and I headed out into the pre-dawn. Pink and blue sunrise after yesterday's rainstorms, and cool and clean air in one of the country's largest cities, I unlocked the trunk and dropped in the suitcase, then opened the door, and sat down to wait for my mark and his lover to come out.

Turns out I didn't have to wake up so early. They didn't come out of the hotel until well after sign out time. They must have found someone to chatter with about the morning paper at the continental breakfast. Meanwhile, my taste buds are screaming for a Diet Pepsi. They got in the car and pulled out of the lot, heading further south toward China Town. I followed slowly at a safe distance as to not arouse suspicion. I turned on the Josh Turner CD that was still in the player from the previous afternoon. I remembered the day I'd seen him at the B-93 birthday bash, and he'd signed the jewel case insert for me. I handed him my PI card, smiled and said "Nice doing business with you!" Now there was a man I'd like to work for, in more ways than one...

My personal reverie was interrupted as they pulled off the expressway into China Town, and parked. I pulled in a few rows over, and watched them scurry off to China Town and quickly lost sight of them in the throng of people there. It was going to be a long day sitting in a hot car in the hot sun, so I determined that I would catch up with them at some other point in the trip.